Homework Folder
by losthpfanficwriter
Summary: In which are stored the various tasks for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) Each chapter is a separate submission.
1. Inquisitive (A2 Potions 1)

_Assignment #2  
_ _Subject: Potions  
_ _Task 1: Write about a person who wants to know the "why" behind everything.  
_ _Word Count: 1355_

* * *

 **Inquisitive**

Professor McGonagall had many duties as the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and one she was always looking forward to each summer was explaining magic to Muggle-borns and their families. Today, she was in the home of one such family, the Grangers. Their daughter, Her…something—Professor McGonagall quickly glanced down at her notes to confirm the name, Hermione—had just missed the cut-off date of the previous school year with her birthday in September, but that did not matter much: she wouldn't be the first child in her year that was a little older than the others.  
"Why is it Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry? What's the difference?" a young female voice asked, the witch in question.  
Professor McGonagall smiled and set out to explain. "There is no difference, Miss Granger. At least, not any longer."  
"Then why not simply call it Hogwarts School of Magic?"  
"Because that's not its name. Now, as I was saying, Hogwarts is—"  
"I don't understand why it is called a school for witchcraft and wizardry if there is no difference between the two. If there was a difference once, what was it?"  
Professor McGonagall let out a small sigh. "Miss Granger, I do not have time to explain the details to you right now. You'll learn about them in History of Magic, or, of course, you could read a book on it."  
"But why —"  
Her mother cut in: "Hermione, enough. Why don't you go up to your room while Professor McGonagall and I discuss this Hogwarts further?"  
Pouting, the young witch left the sitting room, leaving Mrs. Granger and the Hogwarts Professor alone.  
"I apologize for that, she always wants to know the details about everything," Mrs. Granger said.  
"I quite understand. Inquisitiveness is an admirable trait," Professor McGonagall said. "In fact, one of the four Houses at Hogwarts prides itself in its pursuit of knowledge, the Ravenclaw house. I think your Hermione will be a perfect match for that one."  
As the women talked, Hermione was reading through the brochures Professor McGonagall had brought with her, mentally compiling a long list of questions.  
When the Professor left, Hermione immediately asked her mother when they could go to Diagon Alley, the magical shopping area, and got a promise they would take her to visit it the next weekend. She marked the day on her calendar.

The Grangers lost sight of Hermione for one second as they entered the grimy bar that apparently served as the entrance to the magical area of London, but that was enough for her to immediately walk up to the publican and begin asking him questions.  
"Why is the entrance to Diagon Alley in a bar? Who are all these people? Why do you have more than one fireplace?"  
"Ah, I, err, you see—" Mr. Granger shot to the poor man's rescue.  
"Excuse us, good sir. First visit to the alley and, as you can see, she is very excited."  
At that, the man's face lit up. "A new Muggle-born then? Welcome, young miss, to the magical side," he said, tipping his non-present hat for her. "Let me ask Nob to show you the way to Diagon Alley, you'd need a wand to get inside. Nob!"  
Not fazed by the sudden shout, Hermione rounded on the man again: "Why do you need a wand for that? Why is—"  
Mrs. Granger took Hermione by the hand and guided her after 'Nob', who turned out to be a young man with a rather dim-witted expression. Soon enough, Nob opened the passage to Diagon Alley for them by tapping his wand on a brick, and they were inside a street that looked like it came straight out of a fairy tale.  
"Mum! Dad! They have books!"  
The Grangers shot each other a look as if to ask, ' _Really? All these wonders, and all she sees is books?_ ', but they were long used to Hermione's… eccentricities, as it were.  
"First, let's go to the bank," Mr. Granger proposed.  
"Why? The book store is close by and we'll—"  
Mrs. Granger cut in, "Remember that Professor McGonagall said they don't use the Pound here, honey?"  
"Right… why don't they have the bank near the entrance then?"

As they neared the bank, Hermione suddenly ran forward, right up to the guards, and asked: "Why is your skin green? Why do you have that big spear?"  
"Why is _your_ skin pink? And it's a halberd, not a spear, human," the guard—the goblin—answered.  
Mr. Granger ran up, putting his arm around Hermione and turning her away a bit, "I apologize for my daughter, she's—"  
"Inside, human. You're blocking the entrance," the guard grumbled. Quickly, the Grangers entered.  
All went well with the currency exchange until the teller told them about the number of Knuts in a Sickle, and number of Sickles in a Galleon.  
"Why do you use prime numbers? Wouldn't a decimal system be easier? Why do goblins control the money anyway?"  
The teller was not amused, yelling "Next!" and glaring at them until they had guided Hermione outside.

"That was… something," Mr. Granger said once they were outside (and out of reach of the goblin guards).  
"I'll say," his wife agreed. "Let's just get the shopping done then… Hermione, how about we go get your wand?"  
"But Mum, the bookstore is right there."  
"The wand shop is closer, honey."  
"Okay."  
No sooner had they entered the wand shop though, or Hermione started off again: "Why do you need to know my measurements? What is a wand hand? What would happen if I were ambidextrous?"  
The wand maker smiled as he called back the measuring lint, answering her as he rummaged behind the counter: "I need to know the proportions of your body to find the optimal wand length. Your wand hand is usually your primary hand, but some wizards and witches use a different hand to write, or fight swords with, than they use for their wand. I believe that answers your last question, as well."  
Hermione's eyes lit up, encouraged. "Why are there so many different kinds of wands?"  
The wand maker briefly handed a wand to her, immediately pulling it back after a spark left the tip. "Wands choose the witch, Miss Granger. For example, the rowan and unicorn tail hair wand you just handled was not suited for you, at all. Here, try this one. Fir and phoenix feather."  
Hermione gave it a wave and nothing happened.  
"Why is it not working? Did I do something wrong? Did—"  
"Here, vine wood and a dragon heartstring core. That should be the one," the wand maker said, giving her another wand.  
"I'm not sure why… oh." As she waved the wand, bright sparks left the tip and Hermione felt it connect to her, somehow.  
"Ten and three quarter inches, a perfect match. That will be seven Galleons, please."  
For once, Hermione was silent as they left the store. Not that it lasted long. By the time they had reached the bookstore, the questions flowed like water again.

A very tired Granger couple sat down with their daughter later that night.  
"Hermione, we talked about this before. You can't just run off and start badgering people all the time," Mrs. Granger said.  
"But I want to know why—"  
"Hermione! Enough with the whys and the whats! For heaven's sake, don't you see how you're driving people crazy?" Mr. Granger burst out.  
"But… but..."  
"Honey, what your father means is that you shouldn't always ask questions. Try to find the answer yourself, first."  
With a small voice Hermione answered, "Okay, I can do that."  
Her parents shared a relieved look. Surely, nothing could go wrong. They hardly noticed as Hermione pulled out ' _Hogwarts: A History_ ' and began reading. Her parents wanted her to stop asking questions? Fine. Then she would simply make sure she _knew_ everything by reading about it. The introduction was already an eye-opener… the most powerful wizard alive, Albus Dumbledore, was apparently a Gryffindor. That could only mean that to be powerful, she had to be a Gryffindor, too.


	2. Decision Time (A3 Care)

Assignment #3

Subject: Care of Magical Creatures: House Elves

Task: Thinking about the relationship between elves and wizards, I would like you to write about a character finding the courage to leave a toxic relationship.

* * *

 **Decision Time**

Astoria looked in the mirror at the mean bruise on her face. Carefully, she applied some more witch hazel ointment to the spot, but it didn't help the swelling much.  
"It looks bad," the mirror said.  
"I know. I'll—I'll just say I fell if someone asks," Astoria said, more to herself than to the mirror.  
"Again? Do you think they'll believe you?" the mirror asked.  
"They'll have to. They just have to."  
From further in the house, she heard her husband, Draco, yell at Scorpius. Astoria stiffened, debating about whether or not to get up and run towards her son to protect him. She was halfway out of her seat when the sound of a slammed door caused her to sit back down again. Since she didn't hear Scorpius cry (or whimper), Draco obviously hadn't hit him. This time.  
"Why are we even together? What happened to the Slytherin Prince I fell in love with?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.  
Her reflection in the mirror sighed sadly, but the mirror remained silent. They weren't designed to answer those kinds of questions.

Astoria thought back to when they were dating, just after the war. Draco had been all charm, pulling out her chair when they went out to a restaurant; surprising her with flowers; making her breakfast in bed after she first slept with him. She had ignored the warnings her sister, Daphne, gave her and had quickly fallen for him, never worrying about the spectre of the war still looming over him. Then Harry Potter had publicly supported the Malfoys, and caused even the slight possibility of Draco going to Azkaban to go away. They were happy then, and Astoria accepted his marriage proposal.

"How did it all go so wrong?" she asked, still softly dabbing at the bruise. She knew the answer, though. Despite the pardon, people still saw Draco as a Death Eater, and when Hermione Granger published a book on the War she revealed that Draco had been behind the murder of Dumbledore. Needless to say, Draco was shunned by the public after that. Soon, he started hanging out with Goyle, Nott, and other people from dark families again, and he had started drinking Firewhiskey as if it were water. Romantic Draco was replaced by angry Draco, an irate young man who blamed his wife and everyone else for all that went wrong. First, he just yelled at her, then he started hitting her… and she feared he would soon start hitting Scorpius, too.

"What can I do?" she asked again, sobbing.  
"Mummy? Why is Daddy so mean?" a young voice came from the doorway. "He tried to hit me, Mummy, but I hid behind the door."  
Astoria looked at her young son in shock. "He what?"  
"He was yelling about how I wasn't his son at all," Scorpius said, tears in his eyes. "Mummy, he scared me."  
Astoria stood up, taking her son in trembling hand. "Come, Scorpius. We're visiting Aunt Daphne."  
As they walked to the Floo and out of the oppressive home, the Mirror softly said, "About time."


	3. Just As Friends (A3 History)

Assignment #3

Subject: History of Magic: Artemisia Luftkin

Task: Since Artemisia was the first female Minister for Magic, I would like you to write for one of the following firsts:  
2\. First time getting your heart broken

Extra Prompts:  
1\. (Character) Luna Lovegood  
3\. (Word) Establish (or a variation of it)

* * *

 **Just As Friends**

Luna was more than just a little excited when Harry Potter invited her to the Slug Club Christmas party, even if it was just as a friend. Friendship could easily lead to more, after all—so her mother had told her once, years ago. She had a definite crush on Harry, and hoped he could see her as more than a quirky girl, too. She had established herself as quite the weird girl, mainly over her firm belief in creatures others swore were not real, but hopefully Harry could see past that and see her for who she really was.  
"What to wear," she said to herself as she rummaged through her clothes. Her Hogwarts uniform was definitely not suited for a party, and somehow she doubted the Slug Club party would deal with actual slugs, so a costume made of leafs and lettuce was out, too. No matter how much fun it would be to wear. Au natural then?  
"Silly Luna, it's not a ritual," she reputed herself, laughing a little. Then she found the dress that she had made herself over the summer, her 'cake dress' as she called it. Pink with white frilly layers as to suggest the eponymous cake, and she had just the perfect star-shaped earrings and glittery shoes to go with it! Letting out a happy sigh, Luna fell backwards on her bed. The party would be great.

All seemed to go well in the entrance hall the next evening, when Harry met her and took her arm. Luna felt a little pleasure at the glances of other girls who had no doubt hoped to be the one on Harry's arm, but tonight, he was hers. She had the entire evening planned out. They would mingle a little with the other guests, then he would go get her a drink and she would make sure to stand near some mistletoe (after checking it for Nargles, of course). Harry would bring her her drink and Luna would look up, as if in surprise. Then of course Harry would kiss her, and she would wrap her arms around him. It would be so romantic and—  
"Shall we go then, Luna?" Harry's voice interrupted her daydream.  
"Let's," Luna said, smiling. "You look very handsome, Harry Potter."  
He blushed a little. "Ah, thanks. I, erm, like your dress, too."  
"Oh! Do you want to wear it instead? I think it may be a little small for you, but if you insist—"  
"No, no, it's fine, it looks better on you," Harry said, flustered. Luna grinned to herself. That should have made him think about her taking the dress off, so much for going to the party as 'just friends'!

As soon as they entered the party room, things went bad however. Professor Slughorn didn't even seem to notice her, dragging Harry off to introduce him to some other guests. More upsetting even was that Harry didn't even seem to protest, just dragging Luna along. She felt a little lost as Harry talked to the vampire Sanguini and the vampire's friend Mr. Worple, but then just as she was starting up a nice conversation with the latter, Harry dragged her off again. Luna was not amused, she didn't come to a party to be dragged this way and that. She began to feel even more annoyed when she saw Harry had gone straight for Hermione Granger. The two started arguing, Hermione dismissing Luna after a single word, so she just stood there, gradually losing her patience. Somehow they made it over to the other side of the room, having picked up mead on the way—and there went her plan to ask Harry to get her some, she realised too late—only to bump into Professor Trelawny.  
"Hello," Luna said politely to her former teacher. She smelt like sherry. As she and Professor Trelawny started up a conversation she couldn't help but overhear Harry and Hermione arguing some more. At least until Hermione darted off, to avoid that boy McLaggen.  
'Maybe I should make her her own butterbeer necklace, she is positively infested with Wrackspurts,' Luna thought, seeing the brunette escape from the room.  
She tuned back into Professor Trelawny's rather one-sided conversation just as Harry finally turned back to her. Luna considered asking him to dance a bit with her, when Harry was pulled away by Professor Slughorn yet again, this time to speak with Professor Snape. Oh, but that was interesting… Professor Slughorn seemed to be telling Harry he should be an Auror.  
"I don't think you should be an Auror," Luna cut in. She grinned internally, deciding to joke a little. "The Aurors are part of the Rotfang Conspiracy, I thought everyone knew that. They're working from within to bring down the Ministry of Magic using a combination of Dark Magic and gum disease."  
Harry burst out laughing, making Luna smile as well. Her joke had worked, and it also served to draw Harry out of the conversation with the two Professors. Maybe now was her chance.  
"Harry, do you want to dance?" she asked, then pouted as she realised Harry hadn't registered her question. Instead, he was focusing on Draco Malfoy, who was being dragged into the room by Mr. Filch. Disappointed, she sipped at her mead.  
Professor Snape dragged Malfoy away, then Harry turned to face her. For a moment her heart fluttered, would he finally ask her to dance? But no…  
"I'll be back in a bit, Luna—er—bathroom."  
She gave him a sad smile, saying "All right," with mock cheer. Harry walked away, leaving her standing there all alone.

For a while she just mingled with the other guests, talking a bit with the more interesting ones. Then the door opened, and she saw Hermione return to the room. Luna walked over to her.  
"Hello again, Hermione Granger."  
"Oh, Luna. Have you—er—seen Cormac?"  
"Your date?" Luna asked. She saw Hermione wince a little. "Oh, he left."  
Hermione's expression was hard to read, as if she didn't know if she wanted to be upset, or happy. Luna decided to cheer her up a little. "I think the Nargles made him, you did leave him alone under the mistletoe, did you not?"  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Sure. So, where's Harry? Off to get you another drink?"  
Luna frowned. "He said he was going to the bathroom, but that was over half an hour ago. I think he abandoned me."  
"He wouldn't do that!" Hermione protested.  
"When you see him, will you thank him for taking me to the party? Even if I would have liked to dance a little, and maybe get a kiss." Luna had to fight down a sudden sob, struggling to keep a neutral expression. "It's obvious he isn't interested in me at all, so I might as well leave."  
"Luna, I'm sure he just—that is he must have—"  
"Have a pleasant evening, Hermione Granger," Luna said, walking past her and to the exit.

When she arrived back at her dorm Luna dropped down on her bed, and only then did the tears start. She hugged her pillow as she sobbed, feeling her heart break with every forced breath. Eventually, she fell asleep, still in her beautiful dress.


	4. He Tells Me Things (A4 Alchemy 2)

Assignment #4

Subject: Alchemy: Protons

Option 2: Write a story about Quirrell.

Uses song lyrics from Randy Orton's epic WWE intro.

* * *

 **He Tells Me Things**

Quirinus Quirrell knew exactly how he had messed up.

One hour before his life first ended, he was literally running for his life as he heard angry Gobbledegook behind him: « Let the dragons loose! We can't allow the thief to escape! »  
How had it gone so wrong? His Master's plan had been straightforward. Put the Imperius on a goblin and let them take him to Vault 713, get the Philosopher's Stone, and walk out. But instead the moment the cart had gone down into the tunnels and passed through a waterfall, the goblin had woken up and had started to fight Quirrell. He had jumped out of the cart, after kicking the beast out, then used the flying trick his Master had taught him to descend to the seventh vault level, and had blasted open the vault door only to find it empty.  
Of course, that's when the goblins' army descended on him.  
Multiple blasting curses later finally found him outside, and a series of quick Apparitions later found him safe… well, as safe as one could be facing his angry Master.  
"It seems I need to keep a closer eye on you," his Master had said. At that, the angry dark spirit form of his Master flew towards him, entering his body before Quirrell could fight back—if he had even dared to. The pain was beyond anything he had ever felt before, even being under the Cruciatus could not compare. Eventually, he blacked out.  
When he woke up, he was no longer alone.

 _I hear a voice in my head,  
_ _he councils me,  
_ _he understands.  
_ _He talks to me,  
_ _he talks to me._

"I know what you are after," Severus Snape said, holding Quirrel at wand point.  
A part of Quirrell bristled and he wanted nothing more than to blast the traitor off his feet, but in his head he heard his Master protest: 'I may need him later, if he is still faithful. Get rid of him, peacefully.'  
Gnashing his teeth, Quirrell played up his helplessness until Snape left. It wasn't until he heard his Master snarl angrily in his mind that he realized his wand tip was glowing green as he pointed it after his fellow dark wizard.

 _He tells me things that I will do,  
_ _he shows me things I'll do to you.  
_ _He talks to me,  
_ _he talks to me_

How had the boy managed to throw him off? All he needed was one more unicorn and he could survive another month or two, but the blasted boy had gotten help of centaurs and so Quirrell had had to flee; his Master furious.

 _I have a voice that is my saviour,  
_ _hates to love and loves to hate.  
_ _I have a voice that has the knowledge,  
_ _and the power to rule your fate._

He had one more chance. Quirrell had easily bypassed the simple traps that were 'protecting' the key, but for the last challenge, the Mirror of Erised, he needed the boy. But the boy was strong, and now he closed his hands around Quirrell's throat…  
As Quirrell felt his body burn up, he lamented the loss of his Master's voice, most of all.


	5. Love Lost (A4 Music 2)

Assignment #4 Subject: Muggle Music: Modern Genres  
Task 2 (Indie): Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division: Write about someone having marital problems.

Prompts (Use a minimum of 3):  
(location) Bedroom  
(word) Respect  
(action) Crying out in sleep

* * *

 **Love Lost**

Ginny Potter looked at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. Earlier this day, she had gone into Muggle London to the secret store ran by that Victoria woman—although it was hardly a secret, she thought, with the big advertisements outside. Once inside, she was shocked by how extravagant and revealing some of the Muggle nightwear was, but after a young lady had moved in on her, Ginny had selected a white camisole that accentuated her modest chest and looked nice with her pale complexion.  
She hoped Harry would like it, too. They hadn't been intimate in a long while, not since Lily Luna had been born. Sure, they still slept together… sometimes… and she tried to be as good a wife in the bedroom as she was out of it, but Harry didn't seem interested in her any longer. Not interested enough to get hard for her, at least.  
A bang from the living room revealed Harry had just Apparated home. She heard him call, "Ginny! I'm home!"  
'Ginny.' Another change. Up until a few years ago, around the time Albus Severus had gone to Hogwarts, it would have been 'Honey' or 'Dear'… now it was 'Ginny'. Part of her dreaded that it would become 'Ginevra' one day, but that was not today.  
"I'm up here, dear," she called back. "In the bedroom."  
"Well, what in Merlin's name are you doing up there?" Harry called back. She heard him rummage around downstairs. "When's dinner?"  
Ginny swallowed, trying to get her nervousness under control. She called down: "Harry? Could you come here?"  
"What's the matter now? Did Lily do something?"  
"Harry? Please?"  
"Morgana's saggy tits, woman, stop your nagging," she heard Harry mumble. The man was not aware she could hear him… at least she hoped he thought that. "Well? What is it?" he asked, stepping inside.  
"Wh—what do you think?" Ginny asked, her arms posed demurely at the side as she presented herself to him.  
"Eh, nice, I guess," Harry said. "What was the problem?"  
Ginny suddenly felt sick. She had gone to all the trouble of… "Harry! I got this for you, I got my hair done, a manicure, and—"  
"Yeah, looks good," Harry said, shrugging. "Look, Gin, I need a beer. Why don't you change and come downstairs? I suppose I could cook, again. Where is Lily, by the way?"  
"Sleepover with the Scamanders," Ginny said, tears forming as she saw Harry walk out of the bedroom. "I'll cook and be there in a bit, then."

Dressed in her normal clothes, Ginny started making dinner for them both as Harry worked on his Auror paperwork. She tried to stop the tears from falling and by the time dinner was ready, she almost felt human again. She served their dinner and tried to smile encouragingly at her husband as he ranted a bit.  
"Nott is causing problems again," Harry said between bites. "Same old Pure-blood crap. He tried to fire a Muggle-born just because of her heritage, despite it being illegal."  
"That's nice," Ginny mumbled.  
"Nice? It's horrible! It's been years since the war and the same old crap is coming up again and again! Aren't you upset?" Harry burst out.  
"Oh! I didn't mean, I meant—"  
"Save it, Gin. If you're not interested in how my day went, just say so."  
"But I want to know! I'm just distracted."  
"Obviously." Harry moved his plate away. "Thanks for the meal. I need to get back to work for a bit; can you clear the table?"  
He didn't wait for her response.

Ginny fidgeted nervously until Harry finally put his paperwork away, then sat down next to him on the sofa to cuddle a little. Luckily he didn't push her away, but he wasn't exactly welcoming, either.  
After a while Ginny decided to check if he was interested. "Harry? Shall we go to bed?"  
Harry didn't respond at first, so she nudged him. He let out a mildly annoyed grunt and looked at her.  
"I'm not tired yet, Gin. You go on ahead, though."  
"Oh. Will you… will you join me later?"  
"I guess," Harry said, stretching. "Look, Gin, I need to de-stress a bit. Can't you respect my need for a little alone time?"  
"Sure, honey," Ginny said, giving him a fake smile. She went up to their bedroom and changed back into the camisole, then arranged the covers as beautiful as she could make them and lit a few candles to complete the scene. She laid down on her back on the bed, a pillow below her to raise her chest a bit and emphasize her assets for him, then waited for Harry to come up to bed.  
Half an hour of waiting later she was still alone and the first candle started to die. A dark feeling started to rise in her chest but she refused to give in, and she took out a romance novel while she waited.  
The next thing she knew, she was waking up from a pained neck, having fallen asleep on top of the covers. The candles had gone dead long ago. When she heard Harry's mild snore from the guest bedroom, it was too much. Ginny hid under the covers of her lonely marriage bed and cried herself to sleep.


	6. Cheater's Loop (A6 Magical Objects 2)

Written for:  
Hogwarts Assignment 6, A Study of Magical Objects: Remembrall Task #2: Write about someone using an otherwise banned object to cheat in something.  
Also for:  
Hogwarts Groundhog Day challenge. Optional prompt used: Word: _Snore  
_ 2974 words

* * *

 **Cheater's Loop**

The Saturday before exams the schedule was finally posted in the Gryffindor common room, and Fay Dunbar looked at it in disbelief. Arithmancy _and_ Ancient Runes _and_ Transfiguration _and_ Charms all on the first day?  
"Kill me now," she muttered under her breath. Had the examination board gone insane? Not for the first time that year she regretted picking the two most difficult elective subjects.  
"Hey, Fay," Parvati said, walking up to her and glancing over the schedule as well. "Ooh… your Monday is going to be hell."  
"Gee, I didn't notice," Fay dead-panned. "Maybe I should've taken Care and Divination like you and Lav, instead..."  
"Wonder how Hermione is going to handle it," Parvati said. "I think she's taking everything, even Muggle Studies. How is that even possible? Teacher's pet if I ever saw one, that girl. And mental as all hell, do you remember how—"  
Fay tuned Parvati out, accustomed to doing so after three years of exposure to the fashion-obsessed girl. How _did_ Hermione pull it all off?  
"Of course," Fay mumbled.  
"What? Did you say something?" Parvati asked.  
"Oh, it's nothing… I just need to, I mean I forgot, I mean — later, Par," Fay stammered, moving out of the small crowd hovering over the notice board. She had to get back to the third year girls' bedroom, and fast.  
She was lucky in that Hermione had left early that day, probably to either goof off with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, or to study in the library. Fay had to admit Hermione was a definite teacher's pet, but she also respected how the girl managed to stay at the top of almost all her classes. She had wondered throughout the year how the brunette could possibly pull off such a full schedule, but if her suspicion was right…  
Fay rummaged through Hermione's bedside cabinet, hoping her room-mate didn't keep it on her. A few minutes of searching later her search was rewarded as she saw a gold necklace lying between two sweaters. She reached for it and a moment later, she had it in hand.  
"A time turner… you absolute cheat," Fay mumbled. That explained it all, Hermione's frequent disappearances, her impossible class schedule… and how tired the girl looked. Fay thought back on the first time she had seen one in a book, some time during the summer of her first year at Hogwarts. Her father had left a work manual lying open and Fay read about the highly classified item there, amazed at the possibilities. When she had asked her father about it later that night he had dismissed her by telling her not to worry about it, and that if she ever became an Unspeakable like him that she would have every chance to study them. Obviously they were highly restricted, which begged the question of how Hermione Granger of all people had gotten one…  
"Teacher's pet," Fay realized. "Well, today you're helping me," she decided, putting the time-turner in her pocket and closing Hermione's cabinet. A time-turner would make all the difference, allowing her extra time to study for exams… or why stop there? She could simply take the exams, and then re-take them after spinning back! Surely, nobody would ever notice. Humming happily, she left the bedroom and went to get some breakfast.

"You look happy about something," Lavender said when Fay returned to the common room. Lavender and Parvati were lounging over one of the sofas, reading through a Witch Weekly magazine.  
"I decided to stop stressing about exams," Fay told her.  
"Oh, good," Lavender replied, smiling. "You were getting almost as bad as— Look out!"  
Fay turned her head just in time to see something, or rather someone, bump into her: Romilda Vane, one of the Gryffindor firsties. Fay and Romilda fell to the floor together, Fay landing hard on her right side.  
"Oh Merlin, Fay, are you all right?" Parvati asked, rushing towards them both.  
"I'm okay, just, erm, shaken I guess," Fay said, getting back to her feet as Romilda did the same.  
"Sorry, I wasn't looking," Romilda apologized.  
"It's fine, nothing broken," Fay said, dismissing the younger girl.  
"Want to join us reading the interview with Myron Wagtail?" Parvati asked.  
"No thanks, I'll pass," Fay brushed her off.

Fay did some studying that day, and spent the rest of the day planning her "perfect scheme". She would sit the exams normally that Monday, then look up all the answers she didn't know and spin back to before they started. She would have to swap places with her earlier self of course, but that shouldn't be too hard since she knew she would be doing so… had done so…  
' _Thinking about time travel is hard,_ ' she reasoned. The biggest problem she foresaw was that Hermione might find out she had… borrowed… the time-turner before exams, so that evening Fay held her breath as Hermione went past her and up the stairs to their bedroom. Half an hour passed, then an hour, and Fay finally relaxed. Hermione hadn't noticed the time-turner missing. Some older students shot the third year girl a few curious looks as the hour grew later and later, but curfew was seldom (if ever) enforced in their House, and everyone remembered end of year stress, so as long as Fay looked to be studying, she was left alone. Finally, Fay was alone, and she reached in her pocket to take out the pilfered time turner.  
She looked it over, turning it in her hands carefully. It looked exactly like the picture in the book, except that on this one the hourglass seemed a little less full, and there was a small crack in the glass. Fay shrugged it off, probably that was from normal use—the incident of her falling earlier that day forgotten.  
"Time for a test run," Fay said softly, placing the chain around her head. ' _One hour for each turn_ ', the book had said, so Fay decided to spin it back eighteen times, taking her back all the way to early that same morning, before anyone had gotten up. If it worked she would have just have to stay out of the way of her 'current' self until the day was over—a day she could spend in the Library, or enjoying the warm weather outside.  
She reached for the hour glass part and started spinning it. As she rotated it for the eighteenth time and let go, the time-turner seemed to rise up in the air by itself, tremble, and the next thing she saw was a bright white flash. Then everything went dark.

A loud snore was the first sign she was not dead. Fay sat up straight, finding herself in her bed. ' _What happened? Did I pass out?_ ' she wondered. Her only answer was another snore from Lavender, from the adjacent bed. Fay lifted the covers of her and cursed slightly as she realized she was wearing her night-clothes, instead of the loose shirt and pants she had been wearing the night before. "What in Merlin's name happened?" Fay asked out loud.  
"Shut up, it's too early for crazy," Parvati could be heard grumbling from her own bed. Fay groaned, then realized to her shock that if she was wearing her night clothes… "It is gone."  
"What is gone?" she heard Hermione ask.  
Looking guilty, Fay turned to face her room-mate, who was just getting out of bed. "Nothing, I was just talking to myself," she lied.  
"Oh, okay then. Mind if I take a shower first? It's just two days until exams and I want to get an early start."  
"Sure, go ahead," Fay told Hermione. ' _Two days? She really has cracked… exams are tomorrow,_ ' she thought. ' _Oh Merlin… what happened to the time turner? Did they give it back to her after I passed out?_ '  
A frantic search of her bed, clothes, and cabinet later Fay had to concede that the time-turner was gone. She didn't dare open Hermione's cabinet, not after having gotten caught once already, so instead she just took her own shower and dressed for the day.

Fay got downstairs and instead of a scowling Professor McGonagall or angry prefect, as she somewhat feared, she saw a small crowd around the notice board. Fay walked up to it. "What's the rush? Did they change something?" she asked no-one in particular.  
"Well duh, of course they did," Parvati answered her. "They shuffle things around each year… and this year we have our electives to worry about, too. Ooh! Tuesday and Thursday, for me."  
Fay glanced at the board. "Still Monday for me," she said, sighing. "That day is gonna suck."  
Parvati nodded. "Wonder how Hermione is going to handle it," she said. "I think she's taking everything, even Muggle Studies. How is that even possible? Teacher's pet if I ever saw one, that girl. And mental—"  
"Yes, yes, you said so before," Fay cut her off. She was upset enough about passing out and getting caught the night before… although… "Hey Par, did anyone say something? You know… about yesterday night?"  
"About how the Weasley twins got caught trying to sneak out after curfew?" Parvati asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"No, about how I—never mind."  
"Ooh, tell me," Parvati said, grinning.  
"Later, maybe," Fay grumbled, moving away from the notice board finally. She decided she might as well get some breakfast in.

Fay kept shooting guilty looks at the staff table, but none of the teachers seemed to even notice her. Still, Fay saw no need to tempt fate further so she went back to the Gryffindor Tower as soon as she finished up her meal.  
When she entered the common room Parvati and Lavender were lounging over a sofa, looking through a copy of Witch Weekly. Fay caught a glimpse of a smiling Myron Wagtail from the _Weird Sisters_ on the cover.  
"Hey girls. Do either of you have a Sunday Prophet?" Fay asked, plopping down on a chair near them.  
"Of course not," Lavender said, giggling.  
"Well excuse me. _Some of us_ want to keep up with the news, with Black out there," Fay grumbled.  
"From a week old newspaper?" Parvati asked.  
"Huh?"  
"Fay… it's only Saturday. Did exam stress get to you? You're almost as bad as Hermione," Parvati added, descending into giggles with Lavender.  
"What? No… Saturday was yesterday," Fay protested.  
"Mental," Lavender quipped.  
"I'll ask someone else," Fay said, getting up with an annoyed huff. As she got up, she barely registered a firstie, Romilda something, run past the sofa. The next two persons she asked both confirmed it was Saturday, though, so Fay retired to a more quiet corner, wondering if she had hit her head the night before. It had definitely been Saturday…  
She spent some time worrying, then decided to study for Runes, at least until dinner. When she was back in the Tower, she pulled out her Arithmancy book and notebooks and sat down in her favourite corner again.  
"Hey, Fay," Hermione's voice roused her from her thoughts. "I need a study partner for Arithmancy, you feel up to it?"  
"Ah, sure," Fay agreed. ' _At least Hermione isn't angry with me… she either doesn't know, or doesn't care,_ ' she thought, finally relaxing a bit again as they went over the difficult maths tables together.  
Hermione eventually decided to go to bed, and Fay packed up her things, too. No sense stressing too much over it, and she could always apologize to Hermione tomorrow. She undressed, went to bed, and closed her eyes.

A loud snore woke her up from her sleep. Fay groaned, pulling the covers back over her. ' _I don't care if it's only one more day until exams, I'm dead either way,_ ' she thought.  
"Fay? You up?" she heard Hermione ask. Fay grumbled an affirmative.  
"Oh, good. Thought I heard you. Mind if I take a shower first? It's just two days until exams and I want to get an early start."  
"Sure, go ahead," Fay told Hermione. ' _Two days? She's a bit nuts… exams are tomorrow,_ ' she thought. Something about that thought felt off, but she was still half sleeping.  
A bit later Hermione came back in, and Fay groaned as she got out of bed and took her own shower. Freshened up and dressed, she went downstairs and ignored the small crowd around the notice board as she went for her breakfast.  
When she returned to the common room, Parvati and Lavender were lounging over a sofa, reading Witch Weekly.  
"Do you two seriously read that every day?" Fay asked, plopping down near them.  
"It's today's, there is a great article about Myron from the Weird Sisters in it," Parvati told her. "Do you want to join us in reading the inter—Look out!"  
Fay turned just in time to see someone crash into her—Romilda Vane.  
"You clumsy bint!" Fay cursed, getting back to her feet.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't…" Romilda said, looking guilty.  
"You almost hit me yesterday, too! And two days ago, you also crashed into me!" Fay complained.  
"I didn't! I'm sorry for just now, but that's the first time!"  
"Liar," Fay grumbled, turning away from her. She was in a foul mood for the rest of the afternoon.  
After dinner, Hermione cornered her in the common room. "Fay? Want to practice Arithmancy with me?"  
"Sure, let me get my notes," Fay agreed. They started going over the maths, Fay grumbling a bit about repeating so much material.  
"So, ready for exams tomorrow?" she asked Hermione.  
"Monday, you mean?"  
"Yeah, tomorrow. I'm a bit stressed, to be honest, I—"  
"Fay, it is Saturday," Hermione stopped her. "We have a whole day left."  
Fay stared at her in shock. "Saturday? Again? But then I..."  
"Fay? Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?" Hermione asked, worried.  
"No, I… I'm fine, just let me check something..." Fay brushed her off, running up the stairs to her bedroom.

Thoughts ran through her head as she threw open the door: ' _It's Saturday for the third time… oh Merlin, the time turner! It did work... but went wrong!_ '  
Fay went straight for Hermione's bedside cabinet and she started throwing out clothes until she saw it lying there, on top of a sweater and looking as good as new: a time turner.  
With trembling hand, Fay reached for it, but just before she could touch it the door to her bedroom opened and she saw Hermione standing there. The girl took a second to register the situation, then gasped.  
"Fay… what are you doing?"  
"Hermione, I'm so sorry, but I need this, to fix my mistake," Fay begged.  
"No! Don't! I'll get expelled!" Hermione cried, rushing forward suddenly.  
Fay grabbed for the time turned and as her fingers touched the hourglass part, a bright white flash occurred.

When Fay came to again, she was in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey was not in sight, but a very familiar face, was.  
"Dad?" Fay asked, unbelieving.  
"Hey precious. You had a little adventure, didn't you?" her father asked, smiling.  
"I… I… oh, Daddy, I messed up so badly," Fay cried out.  
Her father reached in to hug her. "Shhh, Fay, it's okay. You're safe now. Why don't you tell me all about what happened?"  
Fay breathed in sharply, then started talking.

"Interesting, we haven't quite had that effect from a damaged time-turner before," her father mumbled, writing things down on a notepad as Fay finished her small tale.  
"Am I in trouble, Dad?" Fay asked, feeling very small.  
"You definitely are, precious, but it all worked out. You're safe."  
"What happened?"  
Fay's father smiled a bit. "Well, when you decided to cheat—and that's the 'trouble' you're still in, Fay Dunbar—"  
Fay tried hiding behind the covers at that.  
"—your fall got the time-turner damaged. Instead of taking you back to that morning, it instead displaced you chronologically and set up a self-contained tachyon bubble around the day, leading to a closed loop," he continued.  
Fay looked at him, confused.  
"That means you got stuck repeating the same day over and over again, with the entire universe resetting each time you reached the same time you had first used it on" her father clarified. "Luckily for everyone, well, everywhere, when you touched the time-turner again, you collapsed the tachyon field and allowed time to flow normally again. It kicked you back to the start of the loop and knocked you out."  
"So I'm safe?" Fay asked.  
"You're the luckiest girl ever," her father said, nodding. "It's Sunday morning now. You were found by one of the prefects, unconscious, three hours ago. When Poppy saw you were wearing Miss Granger's time-turner she informed Professor McGonagall, who called the Unspeakables. Lucky for you, Missy, Daddy was on call."  
"I'm in so much trouble," Fay said, sighing. "What happens now?"  
Her father shot her a grin. "While you were _resting_ I did some tests on the time-turner. It still works normally, so we'll be returning it to Miss Granger with the request she keep a better eye on it for these last few days. I'm going to recommend my fellow Unspeakables we never lend one out for school again, by the way.  
"You will be allowed to take your exams as normal tomorrow—and you'd better be prepared, precious. As for punishment..."  
Fay swallowed.  
"You're going to help Mr. Filch polish up the trophy cabinet for the entire week after exams, and when you get back home, you're grounded."  
"Grounded? But Dad!" Fay protested.  
"Consider it a lesson, Fay. I waited until I was sixteen before I first accidentally almost destroyed the universe, after all."  
Fay looked at her father, not sure if he was joking or not… and secretly relieved.


	7. Dark Side of the Moon (A6 Potions 4)

Written for:  
Hogwarts Potions Task #4: Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher. Write about someone using a curse or hex to create boils or pimples on the face of an opponent.

Also written for: Snake Appreciation day. Write an AU where a non-Slytherin character is in Slytherin. (Luna Lovegood)  
Extra prompt used: Word: Fragile

* * *

 **Dark Side of the Moon**

Luna Lovegood was not your typical Slytherin. Sure, she was a pure-blood from a long established line, and sure, she was known to be cunning and intelligent. But she was also odd, to say it nicely. Most of her classmates weren't so nice, and called her Loony Lovegood. You see, Luna had the tendency to believe in any crackpot theory she came across, and her father just happened to run the closest thing Wizarding Britain had to a gossip rag, _The Quibbler_. So little Luna Lovegood, sorted in Slytherin because of a reason only the Sorting Hat knew, didn't have an easy time in her house.  
From her first day she was being mocked by Pansy Parkinson and her gang, and the other Hogwarts houses all automatically hated her for being a Slytherin.

The bullying moved from name calling to more extreme forms as time went on, and by the time Luna started her third year, the year of the Tri-wizard Tournament, it had gotten to the point where she had to carefully guard her possessions lest they be stolen. She had learned the need for that after a ring she had gotten from her mother had ' _disappeared_ ' the previous year, and only after searching through Pansy's belongings at a time when the pug-nosed older girl was watching the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch game had she found it back.  
Not that Luna was unfair. "I'll warn you only once," she had told everyone in the common room on her first day back. "I have protected my stuff against Nargles, and anyone that wants to help them hide my stuff." The glare she directed at Parkinson's gang hopefully brought the message home.

In another world, Luna may have been a fragile, gentle soul, but after two years of living among the 'cunning', this Luna had become rather vicious. Her late mother had been a spellwright, one of those rare gifted Arithmancers who could create their own spells, and Luna had free access to her mother's notes while at home. Sure, she was only starting Arithmancy herself this year, but reading through the notes for years had already taught her more than just the basics, so Luna had managed to create a variant of the standard Pimple Jinx that could be cast on items, and was not possible to revert with the normal counter-jinx.

It took only a day before Parkinson struck. Luna was exploring the castle by herself, looking for Heliopath nests near the Ravenclaw Tower, when an irate Daphne Greengrass came running towards her.  
"There you are, Loony! You're in for it now!" the dark-haired bully cried, panting from her run.  
"Oh hello, Greengrass. Why are you running? Are you being chased by Rhodesian Micro-rhinos?"  
Greengrass blinked. "Rhodesian what nows?"  
"Rhodesian Micro-rhinos," Luna helpfully repeated. "They look a little like Erumpents, only much smaller, and they like to chase after people who have a guilty conscience. Were you running from them?"  
"Loony, I have no time for your nonsense! You did something to Pansy, and it needs to stop now!" Greengrass yelled.  
"Oh dear. Did she get caught in my Nargle trap?" Luna asked, skipping closer to Greengrass.  
"She's currently in the Hospital Wing, crying because of painful boils that not even the matron can dis-spell! I know you did it, Loony, and you'll be expelled for sure!" Greengrass accused her.  
"Well, that is unfortunate… if only someone could have warned Parkinson that my trunk was protected… oh wait, I did," Luna answered, a smirk starting to appear on her face.  
"You're in for it now, bitch! Professor Snape wants to see you, he's with Pansy in the Hospital Wing! Are you going to come with me quietly, or do I get to hex you first?" Daphne yelled.  
"No need to shout, I'm right here," Luna said, now really smirking. "Lead the way, Greengrass."

Professor Snape did not look happy when Greengrass all but dragged Luna inside the Hospital Wing. Past her head of house, Luna saw Parkinson lying on a bed with Madam Pomfrey fussing over her, the girl's normally immaculate make-up ruined by tears. Oh, and some nasty boils that were continuously forming all over her body, further inflaming the skin and obviously causing great pain.  
"Lovegood," Professor Snape drawled out, looking disdainfully at the blonde. "Greengrass tells me you had something to do with this."  
"Did she now? Did Greengrass also mention that the only way Parkinson could have gotten caught in my Nargle trap was if she was trying to steal from me?" Luna countered.  
Professor Snape was silent for a moment, then transfixed Greengrass with a stare. A few moments later Greengrass looked away, looking guilty, and Professor Snape looked even angrier than before as he looked at Luna again. "She neglected to provide that piece of information, Lovegood. I will deal with that situation after the current business is taken care of. Mind explaining how the Boil-Cure is ineffective on Parkinson?"  
"Yes, I mind, Professor. At least in current company. However, if it is a cure you are looking for… I just happen to have some on me," Luna said, reaching in her robes and drawing forth a vial containing a bright blue potion. She handed it over to her head of house, who in turn handed it to Madam Pomfrey.  
All looked on as the matron applied the cure to Parkinson's boils and Luna heard Madam Pomfrey let out a sigh of relief as the boils disappeared.  
"May I have that back, Poppy?" Professor Snape asked. The matron handed it over, and he inspected the potion against the light. "Interesting, Lovegood. Your own recipe?"  
"My mother's, sir," Luna answered. "I merely brewed it."  
"I see." Professor Snape held it in hand for a moment longer, then gave it back to Luna, reluctantly. "Stay after your next potions class, and show me how to brew it for extra credit, Lovegood."  
Luna nodded, "Yes sir."

Parkinson had recovered from the boils by now and sat straight up in her bed, glaring at Luna, with Greengrass by her side. "You bitch," she hissed at the younger girl.  
Instantly, Professor Snape turned to face her. "Silent, foolish girl. You're lucky that you got off so lightly," he snapped at her.  
Parkinson stared at him open-mouthed, leaving it to Greengrass to protest: "But sir! Look at what she did to Pansy!"  
"All I see is a foolish bully who ignored a properly given warning, and had to pay the consequences," Professor Snape said.  
"Isn't she going to get punished?" Greengrass cried out, unbelieving.  
"Thanks for reminding me, Greengrass," Professor Snape said, an evil smile appearing on his face as he looked at the girl in bed. "Parkinson! Report to Mr. Filch tonight, I hear Moaning Myrtle's bathroom needs cleaning. As for you, Miss Lovegood..."  
Luna didn't even flinch as Professor Snape turned to face her.  
"Ten points to Slytherin for standing up to bullying and using proper self protection. Now, be off!"  
"Thank you, sir," Luna said, smiling as she curtsied. She was ever so happy that at least one of the teachers was free of Wrackspurts!


	8. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures (A7)

Written for:

Hogwarts Animagus Training. Task: Write about someone willingly going through an uncomfortable experience. Be sure to include the why.

* * *

 **Desperate Times, Desperate Measures**

Hermione nibbled her lower lip as she picked up her Nokia phone. She picked Harry's number from the address book, then waited for him to pick up.  
"Hey, Hermione."  
"Harry? Can I come over?"  
"What, now? I'm just about to leave for work."  
"Can you call in and say that you're going to be late? I really need to talk to you."  
She heard Harry sigh. "Okay, I'll call in. Hop on over any time now; you can apparate into the garden."  
"Thanks, Harry."

-x-x-

She pocketed the phone, then focused on Harry's home and disappeared from her home, only to reappear in the garden of Grimmauld Place with a crack. She entered through the back door, finding Harry in the kitchen.

"I floo-called the Ministry. They weren't that happy, but I guess being a war hero helps sometimes," Harry said. "Come, have some tea with me."

Hermione sat down at the table and waited for Harry to pour her some tea. She sipped it slowly until Harry broke the silence.

"What was it you needed so urgently?"

"Harry, I hate to ask this, but can I borrow money from you?"

Harry looked surprised. "Borrow money? Sure, I guess, how much?"

"Twenty thousand pounds," Hermione said in a small voice.

Harry blinked. "Sorry, I must've misheard you… how much did you say?"

"Twenty thousand, Harry," Hermione repeated. "Please!"

"That… that's a lot of money. What could you possibly need _that much_ for?"

"It's my mum, Harry. She's been diagnosed with cancer and—" her voice broke, "—and they said it's likely terminal. The doctor gave her less than six months to live!"

"Wow… that is terrible. How long has she known?"

"Ever since they got back from Australia," Hermione said, sniffling slightly. "She had some stomach issues and the doctors found it during a check-up. It's bowel cancer, and there is a drug that might work, but the NHS won't fund it!"

"And that costs £20,000?" Harry asked, disbelief in his voice.

"Yes, it does. And since they had to sell the dentistry clinic at a loss when I sent them off to Australia, they don't have the savings for it. And I certainly don't have that much money, either. So, Harry, please, can I borrow it from you?"

Harry sighed. "Hermione, I really would love to help you, but I don't have that much either. I'm hardly getting by on my trainee Auror wages, to be honest."

Now it was Hermione's turn to look disbelievingly. "But everyone always says you're rich! Ron said you have a vault full of money at Gringotts!"

"Hermione, my parents left me a vault with enough money to pay for Hogwarts and a little extra. If it weren't for the small inheritance I got from Sirius, I probably would have to sell this place to the Malfoys."

"But that's your trust vault, right? Don't you have a family vault, too?"

"I wish," Harry scoffed. "Look, I really feel bad for you, really. But I can't help you with this, Hermione. Have you asked Poppy if she can help?"

"Of course I did. Wizards can't cure cancer, either," Hermione said, sounding sad. "Well… thanks, I guess. I… I will see you later." She got up from the table and went straight outside, then disapparated.

-x-x-

With her last lifeline proving to be a bust, Hermione started to get a little desperate. The Goblins did not lend out money, period, so her only option was the Muggle side. And no bank would lend twenty thousand to an unemployed woman without a school history, so regular banks were out, too.

She had applied for a job at the Ministry of Magic and managed to get hired part-time by the Misuse of Magical Artifacts office, but that wasn't enough by far to pay for the drug so she still needed something else. Then, one day after her Ministry shift and about a month after she had gone to Harry to beg for money, she saw an ad in the Muggle newspaper.

' _I couldn't possibly,_ ' she thought as she read it again. ' _But it would pay well… and it's not like I have much of an alternative._ '

Grimacing, she circled the ad, and decided to visit the location the next day.

-x-x-

 _All Things Nice_ , it advertised proudly above the entryway in white and red neon. The inside was dark, no surprise since the door advertised it would open at 9pm, over four hours from now, but she was sure this was the right address. Hermione rang the doorbell and waited, nibbling her lower lip as she fought the urge to turn around and walk away.

She did not have to wait long until the door was opened by a short, fat, and balding man with a cigarette in his mouth. "What do you want, luv?" he asked, visibly checking her out.

Hermione felt dirty just standing there. She had dressed in a black, form-fitting dress and heels for the occasion and wore a dark jacket over it, but under his stare she might as well be naked.

"Well? Did you come here just to stand around or what?" the man asked.

"Oh… I, I saw you ad, in the paper, and I thought I'd—"

A wide grin appeared on his face. "Oh, you're here to try out! Well come on in girlie. The manager is currently dealing with another dancer, you can go on as soon as she's done." He stepped away to make room for her to enter and she walked past him.

The inside looked less sleazy than she had been expecting, in fact it looked very much like a normal bar, except for the large circular podium in the centre and the various booths with a pole surrounded by benches. The centre podium held another pole, around which a peroxide blonde girl was currently twirling her legs. Hermione gasped as she realised the girl was completely naked, displaying her (obviously fake) breasts and shaved genitalia for all the world to see. Well, for the man who had let her in, Hermione, and a man in a suit who sat in front of the stage, that was.

A pounding beat played through the club but just as Hermione got near the stage it stopped.

-x-x-

"Excellent, Pearl. Just what I want in my girls," the suit-wearing man said to the dancer. "You can start this Saturday, and then two more times the following week. I'll let Jasmine work out the schedule with you."

"Thanks, Johnny," the naked girl — Pearl — said. She picked up her clothes, discarded on the stage, then walked to the back curtains carrying them, still naked.

The suited man turned to face Hermione now, then visibly looked her over just as the other man had.  
"Welcome to _All Things Nice_ , doll. Lose the jacket, would you?"

Hermione frowned. "Hello to you too. I'm Hermione and I—"

"Herrayone? That's a horrible stage name. Change it to… Chastity I think. Now how about losing the jacket?"

Hermione opened her jacket and removed it, placing it on the chair behind her. The man smacked his lips as he checked her over.

"I like, I like. Name's John Hawke, by the way, general manager of this fine establishment. "Now, Chastity, do you want to audition straight away?"  
Hermione swallowed. "I, I just wanted to be sure about the position. It's just dancing, right? No… other stuff?"

John looked her straight in the eyes for the first time. "That's right, doll. Just dancing and stripping. We have the centre stage here where most of the acts take place, and then we also have some poles in booths for private acts. There's also some private rooms downstairs for VIP clients, but there's an absolute zero policy on touching here. And if I even get a hint that you're whoring yourself out to clients, you're out of the door faster than you can even blink."

"That… that's good. How much would it pay?"

"Pay?" John raised an eyebrow. "We don't pay you, you pay us £40 for each shift, and ten percent of your tips. You keep the rest."

"Oh. But I thought—"

"I know what you thought, but that's not how it works in the real world. The dancers are not employees, they're contractors. We offer you a stage to work on and security, as well as the existing clientele. Most of our dancers take home around seven hundred to twelve hundred pounds per shift, so it's not like you're losing money. Got it? Still want to join us?"

"I get it," Hermione said, nodding. "Then yes, I want to be a dancer."

"That's what I like to hear. Go through the door to the left of the stage. Jasmine, one of my regular dancers, should be back there and she can help you get ready. Once you have your routine worked out, come out on the stage and you can show me why I should want to let you work here."

Hermione nodded, picking up her jacket but not wearing it yet, and walked to the indicated door. She felt both men's eyes on her arse as she walked there, realizing they would soon see a lot more from her.

-x-x-

Jasmine gave her an encouraging smile as Hermione stepped onto the walkway to the stage. In the back she had put on heavy make-up: blood red lipstick, thick mascara, and eyeliner. The black dress seemed almost painted on her body and under it she wore her sexiest pair of black nylons.

The music started pounding a rhythm as she walked to the centre of the stage. With one hand she grabbed the pole, then graciously twirled around it, leaning over backwards as low as she dared. She stood back up and twirled to the rhythm as she grabbed her own breasts, licking her lips as she caught the eyes of John. She gave him a wink, then twirled around the pole again, allowing herself to land in a seated position. Deliberately, she spread her legs, giving him an upskirt view of her black thong.

' _Time to lose the dress,_ ' she reminded herself, standing back up and twirling around the pole once more. Swaying around she pushed the shoulder straps of her dress off, then bent down as she pushed it to her middle. She twirled in place and then sat down again, pushing the dress past her bum and then stepped out of it.

Her face was burning red as she stood there in a small thong and tiny black bra but she knew she had to impress the client now. As she danced around the pole she saw him smack his lips appreciatively and soon enough she worked up the courage to discard her bra. Reaching back with her right hand she covered her breasts with her left until the bra was loose, then did another backwards tilt on the pole as she let it drop, catching it with her right hand and throwing it to John.

"Nice move, Chastity, but don't do that in a normal show unless you want to lose the bra permanently," John said.

Hermione nodded, then did another few twirls around the pole, trying to ignore how her breasts were on display for both men to see.

"What about the thong?" John asked when the song died, and before a new one could start up.

Hermione froze. "I… I am not sure if..."

"Fully naked girls take home a lot more in tips, but if you don't want to, I understand," John said.

"I'll keep it on, then," Hermione said.

"Okay. Well, I've seen enough. You can start Saturday with Pearl, and like her, I'll offer you three shifts for the first week. We have a deal?"

"Deal," Hermione said, nodding.

"Perfect. Looking forward to getting to know you better, Chastity," John said.

-x-x-

After working out a schedule with Jasmine Hermione left the club, then apparated home from a side alley. She threw herself on her bed and cried out of shame and humiliation, but this was really her best way to save her mother… even just seven hundred pounds could buy her the first dose of medicine, and if all it cost was her pride… well, it was worth it.


End file.
